


Therapist AU

by Asynca



Series: Ready, Set, Go! - Speed Prompts [35]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Doctor/Patient, F/F, doctor patient - Freeform, flashfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 02:56:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15451833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: What if Mercy was a trauma psychologist instead of a doctor, and Pharah needed debriefing?





	Therapist AU

Helix had insisted. “You need to debrief,” Control had told her. “You’ve been held hostage for 48 hours for crying out loud! People get scarred for life from experiences like that!”

Perhaps that was so, but Fareeha didn’t feel particularly scarred. In fact, she felt  _fantastic._ No one had died. No one had even been hurt! That was the best possible outcome to being held at gunpoint, blindfolded, gagged and stored in an abandoned warehouse while people yelled a language she didn’t understand around her. Furthermore, the traitors who had done all that had wanted 10,000,000,000 credits and the password to Helix’s new security matrix, and they hadn’t gotten a cent. Fareeha derived no small amount of satisfaction watching them being herded into a police van to be moved to prison.

Honestly, Fareeha was  _proud_ of her role in managing that situation. She couldn’t wait for her mother to hear about it. She didn’t need  _debriefing_! She was fine!

Nevertheless, as soon as she was showered and changed into her casual clothes (the only change of clothes she had with her was her gym gear), Helix shipped her off to crisis counselling before she could even face the media—something about it being an insurance requirement.

The office they’d ferried her to was a private consultation room at the local hospital—apparently the woman who’d be debriefing her today was a visiting psychologist. Fareeha read the name on the door:  _Dr Angela Ziegler, MA PhD._ It didn’t sound Egyptian at all.

She was just spending a few moments googling this therapist to see what other information she could find out her when a voice—a really pleasant voice—said, “Captain Amari?” from the doorway.

Fareeha looked up. The woman standing at Dr Ziegler’s door was white (European, perhaps?), neatly dressed in a suit and sporting thick-framed glasses, her blonde hair swept back in a loose ponytail. She also had most beautiful, gentle smile on her face. Really, she had the most beautiful  _everything_ on her face. She was shockingly pretty. Fareeha felt a slight blush rise to her cheeks—especially when she realised that in comparison to this smartly dressed woman, she was wearing her tight work-out gear which wasn’t really that much fabric.

Dr Ziegler appeared to wrestle with a moment of speechlessness herself, pushing it aside and burying it underneath stoic professionalism. “You must be Fareeha Amari, hero of the day, am I right?”

Fareeha was very, very happy she was. She smiled and stood, following her beautiful therapist off into a private room.

It felt like a naughty breach of ethics to even think it: but the fact Fareeha was going to be able to secretly admire this woman for a whole hour felt like the best possible reward for what she’d managed at Helix—and something that would make _anyone_  forget about their trauma.

Fareeha was  _very_ glad Helix had insisted she be debriefed.

 


End file.
